


Fallen Angel

by ImpalaChevy67



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bruises, Caring Azumane Asahi, Cuts, Emotional Sex, Feels, Gentle Kissing, Gentle Sex, I'm Sorry, Incest, M/M, Murder, Nervous Azumane Asahi, Nishinoya's Father, Nishinoya's Sister, Original Character(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prostitution, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2019-01-16
Packaged: 2019-05-09 03:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14708621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpalaChevy67/pseuds/ImpalaChevy67
Summary: When Suga becomes suspicious about something, secrets are exposed and critical situations arise for the Karasuno Volleyball Club.Nishinoya finds it hard to cope while simultaneously desperately trying to keep the others in the dark.Asahi never thought he'd feel so lost, so teriffied of something he loves so much slipping out of his hands and into the darkness. He struggles to save a fallen Angel while keeping his own strong but otherwise uncalled for and apparently unwanted feelings at bay.Chaos ensues...





	1. First Signs

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, I know I have a lot of stories on standby but I recently watched Haikyuu!! and I just couldn't not write something. Luv y'all!

Suga had first noticed it about a week ago.

It had all started with something very... common. A hoodie.

Just a hoodie.

Nishinoya wearing a hoodie.

Now, to anyone who didn't know Nishinoya, it would seem normal, it  _was_ getting colder and colder after all. But not to Suga. Not to anyone who spent time with the libero on a daily basis.

Nishinoya was always wearing t-shirts, a light long-sleeve in the snowiest of days. Never something as warm and big as a hoodie. So, seeing him huddled up in something like that -which looked about three times his size- arose suspicion in the grey-haired setter's mind.

But it was, still, just a hoodie.

But then...

Then there was the makeup.

Suga hadn't meant to scare or startle Nishinoya but about two days after the hoodie incident....

_Suga had accidentally left his knee pads in the club room and was running up the stairs in order to get them as fast as possible so that Daichi wouldn't get angry at being kept waiting._

_For a moment, before he opened the door, he cursed Nishinoya for leaving the room like that when he'd promised he'd shut the lights before leaving. It didn't occur to him that someone may still be inside._

_Suga slammed the door opened loudly, only to be met with a pair of widened, clearly scared, brown eyes looking up at him in a panicked way._

_Nishinoya looked teriffied, his hands, which had been busy applying makeup to his neck, flying up in a defensive stance, protectively in front of his chest._

_He looked so scared..._

_"I'm sorry, I-... I didn't know you were here..."_

_"Y-Yeah, I.... Yeah."_

Suga had never seen Nishinoya lost for words. Ever. It just didn't happen.

He had gotten his knee pads as fast as possible and ran to Daichi.

He thought about mentioning it, telling the Captain about what he'd seen, but then decided against it. If Nishinoya wanted to apply makeup it was his business and his alone. Suga wasn't in the place to judge.

But then it all became very clear. So very clear.

The thing is, Nishinoya never ever  _ever_ gets intimidated by anyone. Anyone. Which had always been pretty impressive, considering that pretty much everyone was a lot -like,  _a lot_ \- bigger than him.

But about three days after the makeup incident, before which Suga belatedly noticed Nishinoya was slightly out of it during practice, Nishinoya not only flinched when Asahi -Asahi, for fuck's sake- approached him but also fucking whimpered. Full on  _whimpered_.

It was soul-wrenching to see Nishinoya so... so... broken.

Suga and Asahi were the only ones who saw it, though, so Nishinoya had just shrugged it off like it was nothing. And Asahi, being the gullible glass-hearted goof that he is, believed him.

Suga had to do something about it.

* * *

"Hey, Nishinoya!" Suga called out to the libero after practice while everyone else was leaving. "Can I have a word?"

"Sure." the second-year said with a lop-sided grin that looked almost genuine. Almost.

Suga motioned to the supply closet, where they'd be more private, and, for a split second, he saw the apprehension in Nishinoya's eyes. He was sure of what he'd only suspected at first.

Nishinoya followed him nonetheless.

"What is it, Suga-san?" Nishinoya asked.

Suga took a deep breath, regretting that he'd not actually thought this through. If he went straight to abuse, he might scare the libero. But he couldn't beat around the bush either.

"I wanted to talk to you about something." he paused. "But before I do that... I want you to know that I am not only a teammate to you or only a senpai. I am your friend, okay? And, if there's anything you need or anything you want to talk to someone about, you can come to me. Anytime. And, just know that, whatever you might be feeling, it's okay. You can always talk to me. And the rest of the team. Are we clear on that?"

Nishinoya seemed taken by surprise at the sudden speech Suga had made but he was quick to recover.

"I know all that, Suga-san, rest assured. So, what did you want to talk about?"

Suga thought about it.

"You know what? If you know all that, then I don't need to talk about that anymore." the setter said and flashed a smile.

Maybe he'd just read the signs wrong. Suga trusted Nishinoya to tell him, if he knew all that. If Nishinoya said he was fine, Suga trusted him to be telling the truth.

* * *

Noya buried his face in his hands the moment Suga left the supply closet.

Close call...

Suga couldn't know. The team couldn't know. No one could know.

Noya just had to get better at hiding it. If Suga got that close, so could the others...

He tried to ignore the pain in his back side as he made his way home.

Not to blame his senpai or anything, but Suga's little meet-up had delayed him getting home and Noya was more than a little sure his father was not going to be pleased witht that.

Oh well, a big brother's gotta do what a big brother's gotta do and all that crap...


	2. Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy! :D

Noya groaned as he punched his alarm clock to make it shut up.

Fucking mornings...

Why did he have to wake up again?

Ah, yes... School.

Noya dragged his body off the bed, letting himself fall on the floor, right next to the razor he'd used the previous night.

The previous night...

_Hands on him, big hands, rough hands._

_This was sick. Disgusting. Vile. He was._

_"So good... So t-ah!-ight..." his father was moaning out as he was slamming his hips against Noya's, skin slapping on skin._

_The pace was brutal. Noya was in so much pain he didn't have the heart to scream at this point._

_"Just like... Just like your mother. So soft..." his father said, running his hands over Noya's soft but badly bruised hips. Bruises that were hand-shaped. He grabbed on them hard, thrusting even more restlessly._

_Noya was trying so hard to keep the sounds in, so hard. Yukio was just in the next room, soundly sleeping, oblivious to what their father was doing to Noya. Noya wanted to keep it that way._

_"You know who looks more like your mother?" his father asked, suddenly pulling out of Noya. The libero could feel that he was bleeding. "Your little sister." Noya's eyes widened. "Our little Yu-ki-o." his father said, accenuating each syllable with a hard slap on Noya's ass._

_He roughly turned the boy around to face him._

_"So why shouldn't I just go and fuck her?"_

_Noya couldn't let that happen. Wouldn't. Yukio was barely the age of seven years old. Way too young and innocent to be introduced to this life. No one should be introduced to this life._

_"Well, if you don't want me to go and fuck her tight little holes, do your job better, slut." his father said, pointing in the general direction of his crotch._

_Better let it be Noya. Noya was already broken._

_He got on his knees quickly and got to work. He could taste his own blood..._

Noya got dressed slowly, eyes staring into nothing.

* * *

Suga thought he'd maybe been... wrong.

When Nishinoya had told him he knew all that stuff he'd actually convinced Suga that nothing was wrong.

But the fumbling mess that was the libero in front of him telling him he wasn't feeling all that well and he couldn't play that day was bringing back the doubts.

Nishinoya never missed practice. One day he'd played with a serious fever because no one was decisive enough to stop him. Daichi had to practically drag and shove Nishinoya out of the gym that day.

Now...

Now Nishinoya hadn't even changed out of his school uniform.

"So... I-I can't practise today, sorry." Nishinoya finished.

Suga thought about getting Daichi but, if his suspicions were correct, the intimidating Captain would only scare Nishinoya.

"Okay, I'll let you go and I'll let the others know." Nishinoya breathed a sigh of relief. "On one condition."

Nishinoya frowned and Suga thought it was a look that the libero should never have.

"What?" Nishinoya asked warily.

Suga took a deep breath, belatedly noticing the wary looks Nishinoya kept shooting the wall behind him. Damn, Suga had probably scared him, backing him up against a wall. At least he couldn't run away.

"Roll up your sleeves."

"Huh?"

"Roll up your sleeves and show me your arms." Suga said more sternly.

"What-? Why-? What?"

"Now. Do it and you're free to go."

The libero seemed to be scanning the room quickly with scared eyes. Suga almost felt bad. No. This was for Nishinoya's own good.

"I-I don't..."

"Fine, I'll do it myself." Suga said and grabbed the second-year's wrist, pushing Nishinoya's chest back with his other hand when the libero tried to get away.

It didn't go unnoticed that Nishinoya screwed his eyes shut and turned his head away, going completely still. It hurt to see Nishinoya so scared.

Suga rolled up the libero's sleeve and took a good look at Nishinoya's forearm.

He gasped.

Nishinoya's skin was dotted with bruises. Hand-shaped bruises exactly where Suga's hand was grabbing him.

Then he noticed the cuts.

Long and uneven cuts marred Nishinoya's pale skin.

Suga barely felt the tears rolling down his cheeks at the sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67


	3. Let me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's because of what I decided to write in this chapter and keep for the whole fanfic that I added the prostitution tag. If you didn't know, check it out.  
> Enjoy! :D

"Let me go."

"I want to help you." Suga repeated the phrase he'd been saying for the past five minutes.

The libero kept looking up at him defiantly, every now and then glancing around like a trapped animal.

It wasn't like Suga was actually forcing Nishinoya to be there, he was just holding the second-year's shoulders. If Nishinoya wanted to leave, he could. By force, but he could.

Suga felt the tiniest bit bad because, really, he was cornering Nishinoya in a way he knew made the other boy uncomfortable and defensive.

But he wanted to - _needed_  to- help his kouhai. And, no matter what Nishinoya said or wanted to believe, the libero needed it too.

That was why he had texted Daichi at the speed of the light, telling him to keep everyone out of the gym at any cost and that it was an emergency and that he'd explain later.

So, here he was, talking to a brick wall.

"I don't need  _or_  want your help. I'm fine."

"Yeah, just peachy!" Suga replied sarcastically. "That's why you're covered in bruises! That's why you can't practice! That's why you're not 'feeling very well'! That's why you cut yourself!"

Just why wouldn't this silly boy just accept his help?!

"Why I do what I do doesn't concern you, Sugawara-senpai." Nishinoya practically spat, going alarmingly still in Suga's hold. He shot Suga a glare, somehow effectively looking down on Suga despite technically having his head tilted upwards due to the 15cm height difference. "So know your place."

And Suga did know his place.

He was a senpai and a friend. His place was to help Nishinoya when the younger one had issues, by force if need be. His place was to protect Nishinoya, not only from the one doing this, but also from himself.

His place was to keep Nishinoya alive and safe no matter what. And he was going to do just that.

"I'm not letting you go, Nishinoya. You need help."

And he could see it in the other's eyes that the boy  _knew_  he needed help. So why?!

Suga didn't have much time to think before a wave of pain errupted in a very intimate area because, apparently, Nishinoya had kicked him where it hurt.

And bolted.

Fuck!

* * *

Noya ran as fast as he could.

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't care either.

He'd stopped caring a while back.

_Noya had just come from school. Practice had dragged out a bit longer than anticipated and it was quite late._

_He expected his father to be at work, as it usually happened, but he found him sitting on the couch, bottle of beer in hand._

_"You're late." he said in a gruff voice._

_Noya knew that voice._

_His father was drunk and, ever since Noya's mother had passed, his father was drunk most of the time._

_And, when he was, he'd probably beat the shit out of Noya. Noya was used to it._

_At least, on the rare occurence that his father was sober, he acted like he was sorry._

_That was something, right?_

_"Practice lasted longer." he replied hesitantly. "Shouldn't you be at work?" he asked even more tentatively._

_"Work, hah! They fired me today, something about 'being drunk all the time'. Pussies!"_

_Noya stopped dead in his tracks._

_His father was... fired? Then... who'd work? Noya had school but he could probably manage something on the afternoons but it wouldn't be enough. What were they going to do?!_

_And why was his father not thinking about that and instead was moving towards Noya menacingly?_

_"So, now, see, I can't pay for whores anymore." his father said and Noya's eyes widened. "And you look just like your mother."_

_Noya dropped his bag and made a run for the exit, completely understanding the implications of his father's words._

_He thanked whatever Gods there were that Yukio was staying at their aunt's that night._

_But he never made it to the door..._

A few thick droplets of water hit Noya's skin and he picked up the pace, running even more brutally than before.

_He'd passed out, at some point._

_He'd passed out with his face pressed against the living room carpet, forming a burn mark which he went to great lengths to explain the following day, with blood and other fluids trailing down his thighs, with his hands twisted painfully behind his back. With his cheeks wet with a river of tears._

His cheeks were wet now too.

Noya couldn't tell if he was crying or if it was because of the rain.

_And he'd woken up, at some point._

_Face still pressed to the floor and everything. Still moving back and forth with the force of the thrusts._

_In, out, in, out, in, out. He counted them._

_43\. After he'd woken up. Who knew how many before? But that was not the end of it. Apparently, his father planned to beat him in-between. Call them fun breaks, if you will._

_Noya took a deep breath and banged his head against the floor as hard as he could._

_At least that worked._

_Silence. Void._

_Much better._

He came to a stop, glancing around only to find that he had run up the hillside, a long way from home.

Good.

_It was never the same after that._

_It happened again and again and it didn't stop happening._

_At least Yukio was safe._

_But his father didn't work anymore. Noya had to do something._

He gritted his teeth, feeling the water trail down his body, fleeting touches of cold against his skin.

A cold wave of air hit him, making him shiver.

_He'd shiver then too, the nights he worked._

_Not that it was proper work or anything._

_But, when you needed money and you needed it fast, anything would do._

_Anything._

_Noya told himself it would stop, it would get better. He wouldn't have to do this for long._

_The rough hands of what's-his-name gripping his hips in a bruising hold said otherwise._

Noya could still feel them. Over him, on him, in him.

In him.

The first few times, he'd doubled over and thrown up. Now he didn't even bat an eye.

_When he could, he'd bus tables, he'd babysit, he'd do whatever. But that didn't happen often and it wasn't stable._

_So, he often found himself on a bus for the neighbouring town after midnight. Working the streets at home was too dangerous, someone could recognize him._

Someone obviously recognized him now too, judging by his name being yelled from somewhere to his right.

His real name.

_"What's your name, boy?"_

_Noya thought about it._

_Too dangerous to give his real name, even if he didn't really look like himself, what with the blonde wig that left bangs that shouldn't be there hanging in front of his eyes, which were green due to contact lenses. That and a ton of makeup and, voila! The only thing that looked like him at that point was his height. Can't really do something about that._

_"Nimiya. Nimiya Hachiro." he replied, batting his eyelashes, long without doing anything to them._

_From that day on, he was Nimiya Hachiro._

"Nishinoya!"

Right. He wasn't Nimiya Hachiro, not now.

Noya slowed his pace down and turned around, to be met with a very worried Asahi holding an umbrella.

Oh Gods, what now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67


	4. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To that one friend: Γεωργία, I luv u!!  
> Enjoy! :D

 

 

> **To: Dai**
> 
> **Subject:** Emergency
> 
> I need your help. Right. Now. Alone.

 

 

> **From: Dai**
> 
> **Subject:**????
> 
> where r u?

 

 

> **To: Dai**
> 
> **Subject:** Nishinoya
> 
> Gym.

 

 

> **From: Dai**
> 
> **Subject:**?
> 
> omw

Suga sighed and let himself slide down against the wall, sitting on the floor, mobile still in hand.

Everything had gone to so much shit...

At least Daichi was coming...

* * *

"Nishinoya!"

Why was Asahi here? What did he want?

Noya tried to think of what he must look like.

His fists were clenched and he couldn't relax them no matter how much he tried, he was practically drenched and his school uniform must be sticking to his body, actually empasising on how much weight he had lost the previous weeks, and his hair had come down due to the water.

He must look like a lost child. A lost, abused child.

Damn.

He had to keep Asahi in the dark, not let him know.

What would he normally do in this situation?

"Asahi-san! What are you doing here?" he shouted and tried, he really tried, to smile but, obviously, you can't fake smile  _all_ the time.

"I... live here." Asahi said and pointed at a house at Noya's left.

Oh.

"Oh, I didn't know, Asahi-san! Well, I'll be on my way!" Noya yelled and got ready to run again but Asahi spoke again.

"Nishinoya... the rain's only going to get heavier and you're drenched. Why don't you come inside to dry your clothes and you can leave when it stops raining." the spiker suggested.

Noya thought about it.

His father was out of town today and for a few days and Yukio was on a school excursion, wouldn't be back home until a while later. And he didn't really mind Asahi's company all that much.

Also, he was fucking freezing.

"Umm... Yeah, sure." he said and Asahi flashed a truly blinding smile.

Since when did Asahi smile without blushing, Noya wondered.

* * *

Asahi was so relieved Nishinoya had agreed to go inside with him...

Now all he needed was a quick text to Daichi and Suga that the boy was there...

* * *

Suga tapped his foot impatiently until Daichi walked through the gym door.

"Suga, are you alright? What happened?" the Captain asked, clearly concerned as all Hell.

He moved quickly towards the setter, bringing his hands up to Suga's shoulders, searching his face worriedly. 

Damn, he didn't want to worry his boyfriend  _that_ much. Not about himself, anyway.

"I'm fine, I'm okay. It's Nishinoya who needs help."

"Nishi.. noya?" Daichi asked, clearly confused.

Suga took a deep breath...

* * *

"Holy... shit."

Daichi had been saying that for a while and, honestly, Suga didn't blame him.

Suddenly, he pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?" Suga asked him.

"Texting Asahi." was all the Captain offered.

* * *

Noya glanced around once he was in the house.

It was all so... Asahi.

Apart from the fact that everything -literally everything- was destined for a different -see, bigger- size of human, everything was... low-key.

The furniture, the decoration, everything, was deprived of any enthusiasm and intensity. Almost as if someone had decided to banish Noya out of it.

"Make yourself at home." the older boy said and Noya bitterly thought that, thankfully, nothing that would happen there would be even a little bit close to his home.

"Thank you, Asahi-san!" Noya said but didn't move an inch for fear of dripping past the door mat.

"I'll get you a towel." the taller boy said hastily and moved towards the back of the house. "And some clothes!" Asahi yelled from down the hall.

Noya sighed. At least it was warm there and he could do it. He could be the Noya Asahi knew. He wanted to be the Noya Asahi knew.

* * *

 

 

> **To:** **Dai-chan**
> 
> **Subject:** Nishinoya
> 
> He's here. My place.

Asahi typed quickly and put his phone back in his back-pocket. He then grabbed a bunch of towels, a shirt and some pants he hoped would fit Nishinoya well enough so that they wouldn't fall to his knees at every step.

He took a deep breath and stepped out of the room.

* * *

 _Obviously_ , Asahi's clothes wouldn't fit Noya but he appreciated the gesture.

Anyway, it wasn't like he would have worn them anyway, his scars would show.

So, he thanked Asahi and told him he'd be on his way, no need to worry.

But... was it just Noya's imagination or was Asahi trying to keep him there?

"If I turn on the heating, your clothes can dry on you, just hang on a minute."

Noya had never seen Asahi so persistent.

Until the bell rang. And Asahi rushed at the speed of light to get the door.

Noya could tell something was off.

And he became certain when through the porch walked Suga and Daichi wearing twin frowns.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67


	5. So now you know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, enjoy!

Noya kept eyeing the window behind the couch, which was very clearly unlocked.

"We're on the fourth floor!" Daichi had exclaimed, outraged, at some point.

"An out's an out..." Noya had muttered bitterly.

So that's how he found himself in Asahi's couch, closely guarded by a sad but stern Suga while Asahi went to drop his clothes into the dryer.

So, yeah, he was wearing Asahi's t-shirt, too. Scars out and all. And he had a towel on his head and a very angry Daichi in front of him.

"What were you thinking? Huh? You think it's okay to get us worried like that, to keep it all inside? Well, it's not!"

"Nobody told you to worry! I told Suga everything was fine!" Noya shouted back.

"I can bloody see how  _fine_ everything is, mind you! And what do you expect us to do? Not care about you killing yourself? On my watch?"

"'m not killing myself..."

"Could've fooled me!" Daichi yelled and forcefully grabbed Noya's hand, showing the libero.

Noya felt tears stinging in his eyes. It hurt, Daichi was gripping too hard.

"Let go of me!" he screamed, and Daichi did, somewhat in shock. Noya pulled his hand back quickly.

"You're selfish, you know." Daichi said softly, so different from before. "Making us do all these things to help you and not even telling us why we need to."

Noya had... never thought about that. Sure, though, they were going to a lot of trouble but Noya never asked for that. Told them not to.

"And, you know what?" Daichi continued. "All that talk about Asahi being a coward for running away? Well, guess what, I could say the same to you. You're running away from the people who care about you, from the people that want to help you."

Noya was ready to talk back, to shout about how he wasn't a coward, about how a coward wouldn't have been able to go through what Noya had gone through. About how none of them could ever understand what it took to get up in the morning, to endure all that.

About how he didn't need help.

But then...

These people loved him. They saw him hurt himself. And that... hurt them, apparently. And if it was one thing Noya absolutely knew about himself was that he protected the ones he loved. That he had their back. It shouldn't have seemed strange that they wanted to have his back for once.

And it wasn't like Noya was delusional, he knew what was happening was wrong, he knew he needed help. He had just always cared more about Yukio than himself.

Yukio.

Noya didn't care what happened to him, he just wanted Yukio to be safe. If she were safe, it was okay.

"Okay..." he muttered. "I-I'll talk to you, okay? I'll tell you what you want to know." He couldn't look them in the eyes. "Just, please, go pick up my sister."

* * *

Suga had stayed with Noya and Daichi was alone, on his way back, with a very enthusiastic mini Nishinoya in his back seat. It was obvious that the kid took after Nishinoya.

Or, at least, who Nishinoya used to be.

Daichi felt... anger. Sadness. Fury. Rage.

He saw his team as his family, taking on a very protective role. He wanted to put the one who hurt one of his own six feet under.

Daichi had always been a great deal more mature than his peers. It was the way he was raised and the way he was, in general.

So he was angry at himself as well. How did he not see this? How did he not realize what was happening to Nishinoya? How had he been so blind?

On the other hand, he had never expected something like this to happen to Nishinoya. Open, enthusiastic, cheerful Nishinoya. Seeing the second-year scared, afraid,  _broken_ hurt somewhere deep. What kind of monster could so carelessly destroy something so pure and unique?

Daichi was starting to see red and his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

He tried to calm down when he noticed, in the rear-view mirror, a pair of big, brown eyes looking at him curiously.

* * *

As it turned out, the Nishinoya siblings would stay the night at Asahi's. It was a good thing that his parents weren't home those days.

Daichi had made another trip to Nishinoya's house and brought some of Yukio's clothes as well as Nishinoya's, the latter clearly a lot more comfortable in something long-sleeved.

Suga wanted to cry.

And he did. He did when Nishinoya walked into Asahi's room, where Yukio would be sleeping, because the girl said she wouldn't sleep unless 'Yuu nii-chan' told her a bedtime story.

Daichi held him as long as he sobbed, stopping only when Nishinoya walked back in the room, his pace slow.

* * *

Noya took a deep breath. It was time.

"It started about three weeks ago."

Suga gasped. Noya couldn't help but think that if Suga was already gasping, he didn't know what was coming to him.

"My father had been fired and it didn't help that he'd been drinking constantly since my mother passed. Note; when I said  _it_ started, I meant anything sexual. The beating had been happening before, since he started drinking. But that was easy to hide, what are a few more bruises amongst the hundreds of others that volleyball gave me?"

He wasn't looking at them, he couldn't. He was looking firmly at the floor. At Asahi's brown carpet. All the reactions he unedrstood were audible. A gasp here, a sigh there. Suga holding his tears constantly. Daichi gritting his teeth at every word.

"It wasn't easy to hide. But I had to. He threatened me that if I didn't do it, he'd do it to Yukio, and I couldn't let that happen, I  _couldn't_. So... I let it happen."

Asahi wasn't even quiet about his crying, openly sobbing and the sort. Noy supposed he should be the one crying but he, surprisingly, felt absolutely nothing at that moment. Vacant. Void.

Noya suddenly looked right at Suga.

"You noticed it about a week ago, correct?" The setter nodded. "That was when I started cutting myself, and it wasn't as easy to hide. At first, I cut in places you wouldn't see, high in the thighs, mostly. But I was cutting because it was the only way I had some control over my life and what happened to me and hiding even when I did that felt awful.

So, one day, I cut in the forearm. And it felt better, in a twisted way. So I kept doing it. And you noticed."

Daichi took a deep breath but seemed to falter when Noya glanced at him expectantly. The Captain swallowed before asking;

"Why didn't you contact someone?"

"You know what happens to people like me. Armies of therapists and shrinks parading in front of us, trying to find out how broken we are. And, of course, I'd be sent elsewhere. Away from Yukio. And she needs me. I know she does."

Well, another reason was that he also saw the Karasuno Volleyball team as his family and he didn't want to have to leave them. Or volleyball, though that dream was already ruined.

"And..." Daichi continued. "...you said your... father..." He practically spat the word "... was fired. How did you survive, if he didn't work anymore?"

Oh. That. Noya didn't want to say that. He didn't want to see the disgust in their faces. Because, of course, they'd be disgusted with someone -something- as vile as him.

But he'd promised he'd tell them anything they wanted to know. He took a deep breath again, knowing that he'd receive some awful reactions.

"Are you familiar with the concept of prostitution?"

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67


	6. PTSD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late! Luv y'all!  
> Enjoy! :D

Daichi felt... nothing, at first.

But then... Then he felt his core boiling with rage. Hot, fiery,  _scorching_ rage, whose ecofantic thunders in Daichi's ears were accompanied by the melancholic undertones of sorrow.

But rage was the leader of his emotions. It was  _primal_.

But he couldn't  _say_ anything, couldn't  _think_ anything apart from  _No!_. But he reacted. Boy, did Daichi react. Before he even noticed it.

He had been holding his mobile when they sat Nishinoya down for that talk and when he heard what he heard he couldn't help all his body tensing.

It shattered in his hand, the glass of the screen buried into his palm, breaking the skin.

It wasn't enough. Breaking a phone wasn't enough.

He wanted - _needed-_ to break the ones who did this. Every last one of them. Nishinoya's father and all the bastard Johns who had laid hands on Nishinoya, a fucking  _child_ _!_

"You..." he practically growled low in his throat. "You... idiot."

Daichi stood from the chair he was sitting in and slowly walked towards the libero, mentally noting how Nishinoya averted his eyes and slightly flinched as the Captain approached.

"Daichi..." Suga warned quietly, trying to stop him telling the second-year what he was about to.

"Shut it, Suga!"

Nishinoya flinched at the yell. If Daichi still had a heart after all he'd heard, it would have shattered even more at that. Daichi grabbed Nishinoya by the shoulders and leaned down to speak right in Nishinoya's face.

"You know better than that! You fucking know that you could have come to us -any of us!- and we'd help you! You could have shown up on my front porch, in the middle of the night, having fucking  _killed_ your father and you  _know_ I would have helped you!"

He would have gone on, he would have said all that he wanted to say. He would have stressed how Nishinoya could have done anything but that!

But Daichi noticed how Nishinoya was violently trembling now, eyes screwed shut and muttering apologies and intelligible phrases. The libero didn't seem to understand what was happening. He seemed... out of it.

When Daichi slightly shook him to grab his attention, Nishinoya suddenly opened his eyes and he looked... panicked. Teriffied.

"No, please! I'm sorry!" the second-year said, tears pooling in his eyes.

And Daichi realized... Nishinoya couldn't recognize him.

"Suga...?" he asked cautiously. "What...?"

"I think..." the silver-haired teenager began. "... that this is what PTSD looks like."

* * *

Asahi was in the bathroom, doubled over above the toilet seat, grabbing his stomach after a violent throw-up.

He couldn't believe it.

Pure, innocent, cheerful Nishinoya was... utterly broken.

And how many times had he fallen asleep crying? How many times had he come to school injured? How many times had Asahi's size scared him? How many times had he smiled widely because he was expected to?

How many enthusiastic 'Asahi-san!'s were fake? Forced?

Asahi was not usually a violent person, quite the opposite. But now he couldn't help the anger seeping through his veins.

He glanced down at his hand. Suga had made him hold an ice-pack on it since he punched a concrete wall after hearing what he wouldn't have imagined in his wildest nightmares.

He felt like he had failed Nishinoya.

Asahi spent a lot of time with the second-year, it was no secret that the latter admired him and sought out ways to approach him, either at practice or around the school. How had he not noticed just how traumatized Nishinoya was?

It's not like he wasn't paying attention to Nishinoya's every reaction and move. If he were honest, Asahi had always been fascinated with the libero, maybe to a fault.

Surely to the point where he fell in love with the younger teen.

And that little fact certainly wasn't helping how he was taking the whole situation.

Asahi only realized he was crying when he heard the soft  _plum_ of droplets hit the toilet water.

"Asahi!" came Suga's voice from behind the wall and Asahi was quick to wipe away the tears lest the setter saw them.

He needed to be strong now. If he weren't, he could never help Nishinoya. And Nishinoya needed help.

But it wasn't over yet, Asahi would see to that even if it killed him.

* * *

_"What have I told you about saying 'no'?" his father asked, clearly angry as he threw another punch to Noya's stomach._

_It hurt so bad and Noya could taste blood in his mouth, trailing down his chin, mixed with tears along the way._

_Noya hated crying._

_He hated crying but now he was wildly sobbing trying to get his hands in front of him for some sort of self-defense but it was futile. He could do nothing._

_"Answer me!"_

_If Noya weren't pinned against a wall, unable to move in the slightest, he would have flinched._

_"I'm sorry!" he yelled, trying to get it to stop. Anything to get it to stop._

_"You better be, you punk!"_

_Sometimes, more than the pain, Noya couldn't take the yelling and screaming. The pain he got used to. But the shouts birthed an instinctual fear in him, in his core. It paralized him._

The scenery suddenly faded, merging into shadows.

The living room he had turned to a dark alley, lit only by the street lights and slight moonlight. The wall was no longer behind him but he was rather pressed against it face first...

_Noya couldn't scream even if he wanted to._

_A hand was over his mouth, muffling the sounds he made and that was good, in a way. Not very few guys were dissatisfied with Noya's pained whimpers and sobs and anything that indicated pain and discomfort rather than wanton lust._

_At least this way it wasn't clear whether the sounds were pained cries or moans._

_But, Gods, did Noya want to scream. It fucking hurt. And the guy wasn't going easy on him either._

_And why would he? Nishinoya was not an actual person to him, it didn't matter if he was fucking splitting him in two._

_At times like these, Noya was not an actual person to himself either._

_Suddenly, the guy roughly bit into his shoulder blade, breaking the skin and drawing blood._

_Don't do it anywhere visible, don't do it anywhere visible_ _,_ _please._ _Noya kept chanting in his head, hoping the Gods would hear him, for once._

_But, no. The guy went upwards, sucking hickeys in Noya's neck all over the place._

_Why, oh why, did Noya not have a 'no marks' policy? Oh, yeah. Because he was desperate. He really should find some make-up sometime soon._

And it changed again. Now it was his home's kitchen.

_"How many times do I have to tell you? I have it under control!" his father screamed to a woman dressed in a crimson dress._

_Nishinoya Yuya, Noya's mother._

_"How many times does it have to happen before you get it, Kiken? This needs to stop now!" she yelled back, fists balled and long nails visibly digging into her palms._

_Her bleach-blonde hair was tied in a messy braid on one side of her head, falling softly on her chest._

_Noya had made it about thirty minutes before while his mother had been singing to him._

_The shouts were starting to scare Noya and he clung to his stuffed squirrel even tighter, glancing at his parents' fight throught the slightly open door._

_"I said I have it under control, woman! Stay out of this!" his father roared, taking a step towards his mother._

_"I won't let you, I won't!" she screamed, turning to leave._

_Noya's father grabbed her by the forearm, forcefully turning her around and keeping her in place._

_"Where do you think you're going?!" he growled._

_"To the police. This is over!" she said sternly._

Noya suddenly came to, in a bed that wasn't his own or that of a cheap motel, drenched in sweat and trembling, tears already drying in his eyes. He was panting and breathing heavily and loudly and he had no recollection of neither where he was nor why he was there.

But then he remembered. Asahi's house.

He suspected he had let out a scream waking up because, soon enough, a ponicked and concerned Suga was by his side, desperately trying yo calm him down but too scared to touch him for fear of triggering another flashback or panic attack or whatever that was, Noya wasn't really sure.

And he wasn't really sure where the whatever-it-was ended and dream started. Because he knew some of it was a dream. He could feel it.

Also, judging by Daichi's face, under the dim light of a lamp to Noya's left, he had fucked up big time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67


	7. White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't do this but I've added a couple of tags due to this chapter because it would be unfair if I didn't but now it kinda spoils it so be careful of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait, folks, luv y'all! Also, sorry for any mistakes, I wasn't really careful with it so there may be some.  
> Enjoy! :D

_Noya was clutching the orange blanket wrapped around his shoulders harder and harder, occasionally wiping his tears on it, hiding his face in its warm comfort. He made sure Kii-chan, his stuffed squirrel, was warmly tucked inside it, too._

_His mum said to take care of his stuffed animals, how could he leave Kii-chan in the cold?_

_His mum said to take care of Yukio, too, but they had taken her away, the men in the blue vests. A woman in a blue vest was standing next to him, leaning on the car that made the loud sound, petting his hair. She kept tickling the back of his neck and Noya had tried to shake her hand away a few times but she didn't seem to get the hint._

_Only his mum knew how to pet his hair nicely and make it stand up. She'd always leave his blond strand falling in his eyes, laughing beautifully at how he'd squint to see._

_His mum didn't laugh a lot recently. It seeemed to Noya that, lately, the only time his mum smiled was when she knew he could see her face._

_But now he couldn't. See her face, that was. They'd covered his mum with some sort of blue rug and Noya could only see her blond braid hanging from beneath the fabric._

_Where were they taking her? Was something wrong?_

_Noya was scared and he was getting more scared by the second because, whenever he was scared, his mum would hold him in her arms and sing to him and now she wasn't there._

_Maybe if he sang the song he'd feel less scared? Noya tried to remember the words..._

_"With slender limbs..." he started singing softly. "... hair dark as night..." Noya continued as the woman in the blue vest looked down at him. "... a smile that kills..." he continued, undisturbed by the woman's staring until..._

_"... and skin pure white... I know that song." she said and smiled, leaning down. "... lips crimson red, eyes bright as the sky..." the woman in the blue vest sang in a high voice and it sounded wrong._

_"Stop, stop!" Noya said, startling her and making her look at him with a strange look in her eyes. "You don't sound like my mum..." he mumbled._

_His mum sounded like waterfalls and, even though Noya had never heard what waterfalls sounded like, he was sure they sounded like her. His mum sounded like Spring and flowers and love._

_Noya held Kii-chan tighter._

_He just wanted his mum to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay..._

* * *

"I don't know what you're talking about." Noya said and he meant it in all honesty.

"How can you not know what I'm talking about?" Daichi insisted again. " _You're_ the one who said it in his sleep. But it wasn't a dream, I know a flashback when I see one, Nishinoya."

Noya doubted that Daichi actually knew a flashback when he saw one but he really had no idea what the Captain was asking him. He doubted anything he said in his fucking  _sleep_ made much sense anyway.

Suga and Asahi weren't stopping Daichi but they didn't seem too eager to assist the Captain either. They just... sat there. Asahi looked absolutely miserable.

"Look, what else would there be that I'm not telling you? I told you I was raped, threatened, abused and that I became a whore because my father is... well, you know what he is." Noya finished lamely.

He hated the way everyone flinched and jumped every time he said the word 'rape' or 'abuse' or something of the sort.  _They_ were the ones who wanted to make this a big deal and talk about it, practically forcing him to comply -Noya knew what being forced to comply was like- so now they had no right whatsoever to be scared of it.

They wanted to know so they couldn't act like it was forbidden to talk about it.

"Nishinoya, what you were implying was perfectly cear." Daichi explained again slowly. "You kept repeating 'Mum.' and you said 'She didn't kill herself.'. Maybe not in so many words but you did. Do you have absolutely no idea what you meant?" he asked, a tad bit more gently than before.

Nishinoya knew it must have sounded crazy because he hadn't told the team his mum had committed suicide. He'd told them she died in a car crash because no one wants to be the pitied boy whose mum killed herself. He'd lived in another city when she'd died so no one found out.

Only Ryuu knew and that was because Noya had told him.

"Okay, I may have lied a bit about how my mother died but that doesn't matter." he said, gesturing exasperatedly, more than eager to drop the subject.

"How did your mother die?" Daichi asked suddenly and sternly, reminding Noya of those detectives that took your statement when you reported a crime. There was a certain coldness to it.

Noya was used to it...

"Well, it goes like this..."

* * *

_Noya's father was shielding the door so that Noya wouldn't see inside, repeating that everything was going to be alright, but Noya caught a glimpse from below a forearm._

_His mum was lying on the floor, her blonde hair falling arounf her head on the cold tiles, her crimson dress touching the floor too._

_Why was she on the floor? His mum scolded him when he would lie down on the floor so why was she breaking the rules? Her eyes were closed, was she sleeping?_

_"Go, Yuu, now!" his father roared and Noya didn't dare disobey, holding Kii-chan close to his heart as he moved a few steps away._

* * *

_It was... a shitty excuse._

_What did she mean she couldn't take it anymore, take what? Okay, so she may have had some troubles, that didn't give her the right to abandon a child and a baby, if you ask Noya. And it certainly gave her no right to kill herself in the middle of the kitchen, where anyone (see; Noya) could have found her and had nightmares of it for years._

_He read it and read it again but it just didn't make sense._

_His mother loved them, him and Yukio. How could she leave them like that? Did she not think for one second about that? Did she not care that she had missed Noya's first day of middle school, first day of high school? First volleyball game?_

_Noya and Yukio were the only ones mentioned in the note, which didn't make sense._ _If she loved them as much as she claimed to in writing, she would have lived for them, she would have held on._

_That's what you do when you have kids, you hold on. For them, not for you. It was just so... selfish._

_But Noya, on the other hand, didn't know what may have plagued his mother's heart. Even the writing on the note was unlike the cheerful Angel Noya struggled more to remember with each day that passed. It seemed heavy and forced, the pen pressed too much into the paper in places, too little in others. Very unlike the brisk handwriting saying his name on the heart of Kii-chan so he wouldn't lose him._

_Under that brisk handwriting was another as of late, a more carefree one, saying Yukio's name under his. It was_   _his_ _handwriting. Not to mention it was his handwriting that seemed heavy now._

_Noya tried to hide his tears. Again._

* * *

"So, yeah." he finished. "My mum committed suicide for no apparent reason and I never told you but that has nothing to do with anything. I was talking nonesense in my sleep, nothing more." he tried to convince Daichi, who looked unconvinceable.

Why would he say she hadn't killed herself when he himself had seen her body lying lifeless on the cold, dirty tiles of the small kitchen of the house that he onhce lived in? Why would he say that when he had read a suicide note?

This was stupid.

He explained it to Daichi and the others using some very colourful expressions and he liked to think that that particular subject was dropped. Hoped it was.

* * *

Unfortunately, the other subject was not.

Noya didn't know if they thought he couldn't hear them because they were on the other side of the door but he certainly could and he didn't like what he was hearing at all.

"Suga, we need to report this, for both of them." Daichi announced with that stern voice of his.

In Noya's opinion, he should be included in the converation.

"Nishinoya doesn't want that, Dai, he should have a say in it, at least." Suga replied.

What he said.

Noya didn't wait to hear more before he climbed out of the bed and slowly moved to the door, opening it and startling a nervous Asahi who had been leaning on it. Noya resisted the urge to roll his eyes at their faces.

He rolled his eyes.

"By all means, continue, don't mind me." he said sarcastically.

Daichi, though, was still the Daichi everyone knew and still acted very Daichi-ly.

"There's nothing more to say." he stated. "I'm leaving."

He moved to turn but Suga grabbed him by the forearm, urging him to turn back.

"Where do you think you're going?" the silver-haired setter asked softly.

Was it Noya's imagination or was this starting to feel more than a little familiar?

"To the police. This is over." Daichi responded sternly.

Noya supposed he would have gone to the police right then had Noya not sunk to the floor, eyes wide and mouth open, a single word falling from his lips;

"White..." he whispered.

* * *

_"How many times do I have to tell you? I have it under control!" his father screamed to a woman dressed in a **white**  dress._

_Nishinoya Yuya, Noya's mother._

_"How many times does it have to happen before you get it, Kiken? This needs to stop now!" she yelled back, fists balled and long nails visibly digging into her palms._

_Her bleach-blonde hair was tied in a messy braid on one side of her head, falling softly on her chest._

_Noya had made it about thirty minutes before while his mother had been singing to him._

_The shouts were starting to scare Noya and he clung to his stuffed squirrel even tighter, glancing at his parents' fight throught the slightly open door._

_"I said I have it under control, woman! Stay out of this!" his father roared, taking a step towards his mother._

_"I won't let you, I won't!" she screamed, turning to leave._

_Noya's father grabbed her by the forearm, forcefully turning her around and keeping her in place._

_"Where do you think you're going?!" he growled._

_"To the police. This is over!" she said sternly._

_She made to leave again but Noya's father suddenly grabbed something from the table and his mother wasn't moving anymore. A crimson stain suddenly bloomed on her **white** dress, spreading widely, its source being his mothers belly, where a kitchen knife at the end of his father's hand was lost in her._

_Suddenly, his father pulled out the knife and let it fall to the floor, looking shocked at the blood on his hands._

_"What have I...? What...?" his father was mumbling as his mother collapsed in his arms. "Yuya, I didn't- I didn't mean to- I had to protect-" suddenly he was crying._

_Noya's mother brought her hands to cup his face and said;_

_"Bring me a pen and paper, it's going to be alright...." she was whispering. "I did this, this was a suicide." she said, as if trying to convince his father, as she kept touching the knife, Noya didn't know why._

_Noya tried to run to her but when they saw him, his father grabbed him, turning his face away from the room and carrying him out by force while his mother kept repeating the same mantra over and over, her voice getting quieter and quieter, due to the distance and her weakness both._

_"It's okay, baby, everything's going to be alright, it's okay..."_

* * *

Noya couldn't stop saying the same thing, tuning out Suga's hands on him, Daichi's voice, everything as his breathing became heavier and more difficult, as if something was sitting on his chest.

"Murder..." he said.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67


	8. Explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Very sorry for the hella long wait, stuff happened (and I was bored, sort of) BUT I'm back (I think) so...  
> Enjoy! :D

Noya hadn't known what a coffin was until he saw one.

It had looked like a regular box to him so, naturally, he had wondered why, if his mum had wanted to sleep in a box, she didn't sleep in one of the other boxes at home.

When the coffin had been lowered underneath the ground and buried, he had realized it wasn't a box and she wasn't sleeping. Well, he had supposed that, if she was indeed sleeping, she wasn't going to wake up.

Now, he was in the process of realizing just who put her there.

Noya knew his father was capable of several atrocities -some more horrid than others- he had experienced it in his mind, on his skin, but he'd never deemed him capable of taking a life.

Alright, in a way, he'd taken Noya's long ago, but it seemed impossible to believe that he'd sunk a blade in Noya's mother's flesh.

Noya saw red.

This man had taken  _everything_ from him, his joy, his carefree spirit, his innocence, his enthusiasm, his  _will to live_. And now it was revealed he'd taken his mother from him too.

Noya never thought himself a violent person but right now he could tear his father's throat out with his teeth and nails and watch him bleed out slowly before burning the corpse and then burning the ashes too. With no regrets.

If it weren't for Yukio, he'd do it.

Right now, he was more worried about Daichi doing it, what with the look on his face.

Noya never knew someone could pace angrily but now that he could see the rage in each one of Daichi's steps he was pretty sure you could do anything angrily.

Like, jugding by the way Asahi was looking at the floor, you could also stare angrily.

Noya had never seen Asahi angry, not once. He'd thought it impossible up until the moment he'd revealed to the third-years what had really happened all those years ago, when Asahi's eyes almost flashed red.

"Can someone  _please_ explain to me why we haven't called the police yet?" asked Daichi and his voice sounded thin, strained. Noya was pretty sure he even saw a vein pop in his throat.

Noya could very easily give numerous reasons why they hadn't called the police, first to mind being that they didn't have a shred of proof of the murder that happened all of eight years ago, and he would have if Suga hadn't beaten him to it.

"We can't, Dai, we have no proof." the setter mumbled and sighed defeatedly.

Suga, unlike Daichi and Asahi, didn't really seem angry. He looked beaten and sad but it was nothing like the sparkling rage Noya saw in the others' eyes. It was quiet.

Noya himself was a cocktail of boiling anger, sorrow and self-loathing and he didn't really know which was stronger.

He was so fucking angry at his father for literally  _everything_ he'd done but at the same time he was drowning in some sort of belated grief for his mother's death. And, on the other hand, he couldn't stop remembering all the times he'd thought of his mother as a coward for giving up or as selfish for putting her issues above her children and he hated himself for that.

He knew they were just thoughts he'd made in anger but, still, if he could take it back he would.

Then again, you never really can take anything back, can you?

* * *

Daichi could certainly now say he no longer wanted to kill Nishinoya's father. All thoughts of burying a handful of knives in the man's heart or riddling him with bullets had disappeared from his mind. As well as images of squeezing the life out of him with his bare hands or clawing his lungs out of his chest.

Death was too good for that stain of a human. Far too good, he didn't deserve it.

What he deserved could only be delivered by a force greater than Daichi and, by that, he meant no police or court, but the Gods themselves. The Hell the man deserved was not of this world.

But all torture that was of this world, he deserved. All of it. And since Daichi supposed that would not be feasible, he decided the horrors the man would experience in prison -being a rapist, not to mention the assailant of his own child- would have to suffice. They  _had_ to, because Daichi didn't know what he might do if they didn't. Hell, he didn't even know how to handle all that he was feeling at that moment.

"Suga..." Daichi called and his own voice sounded foreign, too low, too gravelly, too rough. "I need to talk to you." he announced and promptly fled the room, steps heavy and eyes hardened, possibly clenching his fists too tightly.

He didn't look back to make sure Suga was following him, the setter's soft but quick footsteps were certainly behind him.

Once Daichi spotted an empty bathroom, he walked in quickly, pulling Suga inside as well and pushing the door shut.

And then, he broke.

Diachi brought his hands up and slammed both his fists on the wooden door unforgivingly and repeatedly, each time releasing a different animalistic sound akin to growling. He poured every ounce of strength he had into each hit, as though he were hitting the one responsible for all this and not an inanimate object.

And he kept hitting and hitting and hitting until he saw his own blood leave its stain on the attacked surface, and then he hit again, this time harder, seeking the pain, chasing the damage on himself.

And he kept hitting harder and harder and harder until his blood was trailing down both the door and his wrists, the pain getting more and more lost in the hurricane that was Daichi in that instant.

He could barely feel the small splinters stabbing his skin, he could barely feel his nails digging into his palms as he clenched his hands tighter and tighter and tighter, he could barely feel Suga's arms wrapped around him in an attempt to both comfort him and drag him away, he could barely feel his legs shaking violently, he could barely feel his chest tighten enough to restrict his breathing.

He could barely feel his knees throb until they gave out and dropped him on the cold hard tiles, he could barely feel his tears stain his face until he saw them drip on the floor, he could barely hear Suga's voice, the words drowned under the sound of Daichi's own heart beating erratically, thundering in his ears, blocking out all else.

And then he was quiet, just a shaking boy on his knees on the floor of a bathroom, injured and bleeding, silently crying, trying desperately to cease the uncontrollable back-and-forth movement his sobs were forcing his body into, his breathing ragged and his throat sore from the earlier brutal use of his vocal cords, feeling minuscule against the enormity of the situation, for the first time in all his years having to come to terms with his own frailty and the crushing reality of the fact that he had been too oblivious to protect his friend before and that he was too weak to adequately help him now.

And Suga's hands on his back, on his shoulders, on his face, did nothing to ease his affliction or his disgust with himself for thinking about his own feelings while Nishinoya was two rooms over, broken and shattered.

* * *

For someone who preached so strongly against Noya's self-harm and reacted so outrageously to it, Daichi did a lot of self-destructive things, if you asked Noya. One might even call him a hypocrite if they heard the loud banging on some poor door a few rooms down the hall.

Not so high and mighty now, was he? Not so responsible and mature with his cries echoing throughout the house. Not so emotionally balanced, all things considered.

Noya didn't know why he had those thoughts, they were admittedly unhelpful and somewhat mean, but the alternative reaction to Daichi's outburst was to be concerned about the Captain and Noya didn't think he could endure being any more concerned about anyone other than Yukio at that point.

Well, he'd stopped being concerned about himself a while ago. He wasn't sure he remembered how to be concerned about himself anymore.

Although Noya recognized the negativity of his thoughts, he found himself unable to stop having them.

For example, if Daichi was as unstable as he sounded, banging himself against a solid surface, how was he supposed to help an even more unstable Noya? How was Noya supposed to listen to Daichi's explosion and not be afraid of him the next time he sees him? How were they supposed to get through this if none of them were even slightly collected?

They were dealing with a murderer, amongst other atrocities, and they were just a bunch of psychologically damaged teenagers who were way out of their depth and trying to handle things beyond them.

Gods, they were so unimaginably stupid...

* * *

On a dark road, still wet and slippery from the recent rain, 80 miles away from Miyagi, a drunk driver with his headlights off U-turned in the middle of the asphalt and his car collided with the car of a couple that were not, unfortunately, wearing seatbelts, leaving no survivors but the seven-year-old daughter of the couple, slightly injured and now fumbling with the buttons on her mum's mobile, trying to phone the police.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67

**Author's Note:**

> Yours truly, ImpalaChevy67


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